


Icing On The Cake

by suilven



Category: Dragon Age
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-28
Updated: 2012-02-28
Packaged: 2017-10-31 21:02:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/348341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suilven/pseuds/suilven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alistair's first Name Day at Vigil's Keep turns out far sweeter than he could have ever imagined.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Icing On The Cake

Alistair stifled a yawn as he walked down the corridor that led to the dining hall. He'd woken to find Elissa missing, just the scent of her hair still lingering on her pillow. Considering how rare it was for her to wake before him, let alone get up, he had dressed quickly and gone to find her. The past few months had been blissfully  _quiet_ —with the Architect dead and most of the remaining darkspawn on the surface having been routed back into the Deep Roads or wiped out entirely—and he'd not so secretly been hoping it would stay that way. The ring tucked in the bottom of his pack was playing on his mind more and more, if only he could work up the courage to actually  _do_  something with it.

As he passed by the kitchens, a sudden litany of curses erupted from within that sounded like… Elissa? He edged inside the doorway, stopping at the sight of her. Pots and pans were scattered on every surface, and she was furiously mixing something in a bowl on the table in front of her.

"Elissa?" Half-convinced he was dreaming, he almost expected the Archdemon to come charging at him out of the pantry.

She looked up, the hand stirring the spoon coming to an abrupt halt. "Are you up already? What time is it?"

Alistair walked in slowly, surveying the damage. "Are you… cooking? You don't cook. You're worse at it than I am, and I'm really, really awful at it."

Elissa wiped her forehead with the back of her arm, leaving a large streak of flour across her forehead before giving him a menacing stare. "It's not cooking, it's  _baking_."

"Baking?"

"Yes. But, you weren't supposed to come in." She sighed, poking forlornly at the batter in the bowl. "It was supposed to be a surprise."

"It's still a surprise, believe me." He slid his arm around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. "What are you doing?"

Elissa mumbled a response, burying her face against him for a moment.

"I didn't catch that."

"I said I was trying to make you a cake for your Name Day."

He hesitated for a moment, almost unable to speak. "You didn't have to do that."

"I know, but I wanted to do something  _special_. I don't know what I'm doing wrong. This doesn't look anything like what Nan used to make. It's all lumpy." She sighed again. "This was a dumb idea."

"It wasn't dumb. No one's ever done anything for me for my Name Day before." Alistair leaned down and kissed her softly. "Thank you."

Elissa rested the spoon against the side of the bowl and wiped her hands on her trousers. "Do you think this is salvageable?"

"What? Our relationship? It's okay, I suppose…"

She socked him in the arm. Hard.

"Ow! I'm delicate, remember?" He smothered a laugh. "Oh, did you mean whatever  _this_  is in the bowl?"

"It's a yellow cake. With fruit."

Alistair gave the batter a tentative stir. It had a strange texture—thick and gelatinous—and were those egg shells? "I… don't think so. I'm sorry, love."

"It's okay. I should have tried something else instead. I don't know why I thought I could do this."

"We could make one together… Two heads are better than one, right?"

"True, but they're  _our_  heads. Leliana used to chase me away from the cooking pot if I even looked inside it."

"No. We can do this." Alistair shoved the old bowl aside and looked around, grabbing a clean-looking one of a similar size from the counter behind them.

"No. No, we can't." She shook her head. "Don't you remember the night we made the stew with those hares?"

"Look, I'm sure it was just a coincidence that we all came down with that stomach ailment. Simultaneously. A few hours later. Come on, all I want for my Name Day is to make a cake with you. Please?"

Elissa squared her shoulders and reached for a clean spoon. "Fine. You can stop with the mabari eyes now."

"Excellent. So, what's first?"

"Ask the kitchen staff here for help?" She smiled hopefully at him.

"No, you wanted to do this yourself and we're going to do it by  _ourselves_. We saved Ferelden from a Blight! We can make a cake. How hard can it be?"

oOoOo

Evidently, it  _was_  hard.

Well, the cake was anyway.

Only Oghren had soldiered through his hunk—it had been inexplicably immune to normal slicing—with the rest of the Wardens making murmurs of being "much too full to eat any more" before bolting from the dining hall.

"I'm sorry it wasn't better." Elissa sat on the edge of their bed slowly unbraiding her hair.

Alistair tossed his shirt on top of the pile on the chair in the corner. "I had a great time. There are worse things than being inept at cooking—sorry,  _baking_." Elissa stuck out her tongue at him. "It means a lot to me that you wanted to do something for me." He paused, a thought suddenly settling in.

Elissa stopped, too. "Are you all right? You went pale."

"Yes. I'm fine. I just need to—hang on…" He definitely wasn't pale now as his cheeks flushed at a rather alarming rate. His pack was under the pile of clothes on the chair, and he dug it out somewhat frantically, extracting a small pouch from the very bottom. "I know what I want for my Name Day."

She set her brush down in her lap. "More rock cake?"

"You."

"I'm sorry?"

"I want you." Before his nerves could get the better of him— _too late_ —Alistair dropped to one knee at her feet. His hands were shaking so much that he could barely open the drawstrings on the pouch, but then the ring dropped into his palm. He'd bought it from a Dwarven jeweller in Orzammar, unable to resist the color of the gemstone that had matched her eyes so perfectly. "I know I should have asked already, but the time was never right and I didn't want to blow it." He forced in a deep gulp of air. "Elissa-I-love-you-will-you-marry-me?"

"Are—are you serious?"

"Yes? I have a ring, if you want to—or, if you don't, I understand that I—"

"Yes."

"—I won't be offended. I mean I'll be—Wait! What?"

Elissa stood up and then kneeled down next to him. "I said 'yes.'

"Really?" He was sure that his heart was about to leap out of his chest and soar around the room.

"Really."

He somehow managed to get the ring on her finger, unable to figure out why it had taken him this long to ask her in the first place. Alistair cupped her face in his hands and kissed her, soft and slow gradually giving way to something more heated. "This is the best Name Day ever," he whispered in her ear before nibbling gently down her neck. "No more cake, though."

Elissa laughed, pushing him away for a moment to look at him. "No more cake. I promise."

"Good."

He kissed her again, sure that he must be dreaming.

He wasn't.


End file.
